


Gersemi

by Liraeyn



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Murder, Ragnarok, Resurrection, Valhalla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liraeyn/pseuds/Liraeyn
Summary: Hela knows death well.  She certainly knows when it arrives too soon.  Arriving too late to the clifftop, she must undo the damage done to her brothers.
Relationships: Frigga | Freyja & Hela (Marvel), Hela & Loki & Thor (Marvel), Hela & Loki (Marvel), Hela & Thor (Marvel), Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! Hope you all are staying healthy! 

Note: massive angst, violence I hope will be no worse than canon, references to sex (off-screen). I will try to keep it T. This is in a similar world to Eternal/Finite. 

X 

Finally. 

The bonds were not physical; those, she could have escaped too easily. It felt like being one of Odin’s prized horses, staked out to graze a perfect circle. The radius varied with a regularity she recognized as matching her father’s Sleeps, yet always allowed her the lake for water and scraps of food, the cave for shelter. Never an exit, though. That would have to wait. 

Not much longer. 

Hela wasn’t called the goddess of death for nothing. The first time she realized something was profoundly different about her, she’d been old enough for school, had she been anyone else’s daughter. No formal education for her. She’d learned how to kill, how to defend someone, how to use a plethora of weapons. 

Her favorite knife was meant to be kept sharp enough that most of her victims would never even feel the blade. Evidently, it had dulled; this morning’s execution had gone less smoothly than usual. Screams sounded odd when the victim’s throat was cut. 

The man had been “convicted” of murder; she no longer remembered the victim or a motive, if they’d even found one. His name, too, was lost to time. 

She could almost see him now, reflected in the smooth metal as she sharpened it on the whetstone. Eventually, it seemed ready, and she tested it on its usual spot: her left wrist. 

As intended, she felt no pain, only the heat from her own blood oozing over her skin. What remained on the knife flowed over it smoothly, except in one place where the blade was still rough. Letting out a sigh that conveyed more irritation than she actually felt, Hela picked up the whetstone again before she gasped, staring at the knife. That face- 

She glanced over her shoulder, but of course he wasn’t there. His body was burned, not on the water like a warrior, but in the dust like all unauthorized killers. Scattered in the wind, the ashes would nourish the crops and begin to pay off the debt of two lives lost too soon. 

Disturbed, she turned back to the knife. Yep, still there. Reflected in the blood of his killer staining the weapon that had claimed his life, was the face of her latest victim. 

“Help me,” he said, and Hela knew no one else would hear him. 

“What do you need?” 

Invisible, cold fingers grasped her own. 

“I don’t know the way to Valhalla.” 

“I don’t belong there. Wouldn’t even want it if I could get in. Just help me to Hel, so I can rest.” 

That was her first time realizing that Hel was just as valid an afterlife as Valhalla. 

She’d led the man to his final rest without truly understanding how she was doing it. When he released her hand, it was with the sense that he’d ended up where he belonged. 

He was the first of many. 

Hela’s powers had developed from there, extending from knowing how best to kill a given person (invaluable during a battle, or for granting a quick death to a criminal, a traitor, or a fatally injured soldier), to knowing exactly which of the patients in the healing rooms were too far gone. The healers were grateful for that- they could bring families in to say their goodbyes, and let their patients die in peace. 

Such was life as the goddess of death. 

X 

Finally. 

Even from here, she could sense Odin’s death. It was the proper time, he was ready, and Frigga -caring as ever- was ready to welcome him to the feasthall. 

All as it should be. 

Before Hela could get through the portal, following the trail of her father’s death, she could sense another, this one far too early and in a way no one should ever die. She had a horrible suspicion as to the victim’s identity. 

Finally, out in the sunshine. It had been a millennium since she’d seen proper sunlight. Not that the sight that greeted her sparked any joy. 

The heap of black and dark green could easily have been mistaken for her own body, but she knew otherwise. Beside him, a familiar hammer lay in the grass, likewise still and covered in blood. 

The only sign of life sat hunched over on the ground, hands tearing at blonde hair. Heavy, shaky breathing could be heard even twenty paces away, the only sound on the top of the seaside cliff. Hela stood beside him for several minutes. He gave no reaction, although she was certain he must have known who she was. Eventually, she broke the silence. 

“Little brother, what have you done?” 

When Thor gave no response, she stalked over to Mjolnir, lifting it with ease and bouncing it in her hand. At least one thing remained from her glorious past. 

Thor stared at her, she tried to use the word thunderstruck and almost smiled. Whatever. She’d figure that out later. For now, she strapped Mjolnir into her belt and turned to her murderous sibling. 

“Bring Loki. We’re going home.” 

X 

Me: Happy birthday to me- 

My health: Hahano 

Me: Happy birthday to me- 

My health: Call an ambulance 

Me, to hospital: Happy birthday dear (name, date of birth, SSN, emergency contact, address, medical history) 

Hospital people: Here’s some IV fluids and antibiotics, and every test we can think of. Hope that counts for a birthday gift. 

Me: Happy birthday to me...


	2. Worthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: tested negative for the ‘rona, out of the hospital, feeling lots better, but this is the fourth major lung infection in eight months, so I will need to seek more medical attention. Thank you everyone who reviewed/favorited/whatever. It takes my mind off of things.

“Okay, okay, I know exactly where he is.” 

Loki hoped with everything he had that Thor would believe him. To be fair, the thunderer had no real reason to do so. After everything they’d just been through, Thor would have to see Odin with his own eyes and even that would probably not be enough. 

Thor just growled, lifted Mjolnir, and grabbed Loki by the arm so hard Loki knew there would be bruises. It wasn’t the first time. 

“He’s on Midgard. I left him somewhere safe. Just-” 

“Show me.” 

Thor dragged him to the stables in utter silence which Loki decided against breaking. Thor’s mood would pass soon enough. It was a routine they’d experienced before. 

Fandral and Volstagg joined them at the stables and offered to accompany them out to the Bifrost. Loki noted that they refrained from looking directly at Thor. They’d put together his true identity years ago, after one prank too many. Knowing that fact probably wouldn’t pacify Thor. Loki would have to find a way to break it to him later. 

The four of them rode out to the Bifrost in utter silence, which suited Loki just fine. Skurge had left the sword unguarded, and Loki made a mental note to chastise him should the opportunity arise. Fandral didn’t even have to ask where to send them; had Thor been Loki, or for that matter  _ literally any Aesir except Thor _ , he would have noticed that in a heartbeat. 

A flash of rainbow light later, they stood on a sidewalk, and Loki mentally cursed himself for not keeping a better eye on Odin. The building where he’d left his pseudo-father was being actively demolished. 

Thor would not be pleased. 

X 

Thor was not pleased. 

Any day that started off with him in a cage next to a surprisingly intact skeleton, landed him on three different planets, and traded one lost family member for another was bound to end badly. It wasn’t even the first time. 

Loki hit the ground through the portal with an exasperated huff. Thor paid him absolutely no mind. Odin, his  _ actual  _ father, was right there, finally, after all these years. Not that he’d actually gone back to spend time with him, only a brief visit after the Ultron situation to ask about the Infinity Stones. 

If he’d gone back sooner, would he have noticed Loki’s deception? He  _ should _ have, certainly. That was his so-called  _ brother _ , pretending to be his  _ father _ . Those were people he’d known for his entire life, save a brief time when he must have been toddling around before Loki just showed up and- 

He’d never belonged there. 

Loki hadn’t even been trying to escape the dungeons when Frigga died, yet just the  _ idea _ that he had been, that nothing short of death would stop his endless escapades, had drawn Thor down  _ there _ instead of letting him protect Frigga, as he should have been. 

And now, showing up when Odin appeared ready to join her. The Midgardians called that deja vu, if he remembered correctly. They had so many weird phrases. 

Odin greeted them  _ both _ as his sons. That stung, even when he’d called them that before. It was supposed to be Thor the firstborn, Loki the tagalong. Even Loki seemed shocked by Odin’s acceptance, as well he should. He didn’t say a word. There was no defense for what he’d done.  _ Fine, then, so-called “brother”. Just sit there and pretend your lips were sewn shut again. _ That was a good idea, come to think of it. Sew his lips shut and throw him in the dungeons again. No more tricks. 

Then, of course, Odin had to reveal one last bombshell. His last, hopefully, save anything he was taking with him to Valhalla. A sister they’d never known. Great. Now he had two siblings he had to worry about, when this morning he’d had none. 

He didn’t need them. Either of them. Deal with Loki first, then kill whoever this  _ Hela _ was when she showed up. Then get back to Asgard and get to the bottom of whichever  _ traitors _ (because there  _ had _ to be some) knew what Loki was up to and did  _ nothing _ . He would purge Asgard of traitors. 

It was a tale as old as time. When the males of a tribe become too old, new ones show up. They cleanse the weak and the surplus of the tribe to be replaced by their own descendents. It would be good to have a fresh start. Odin used to have two brothers, he’d been told that, but they’d just...  _ disappeared _ about the same time Bor had died. Now he knew why. No new thing under the sun. 

Lightning sparkled from his fingers. 

X 

“Brother...” 

In days gone by Loki would have come up with something far more eloquent. Nothing like that would be happening now. He just wanted the brother he’d fought alongside for centuries to grab him, go back to Asgard, and then they would drink, have a laugh, and wait for Hela to show up before dealing with her the way they always used to: together. 

When Loki noticed the lightning sparking directly from Thor’s hands, which as far as he knew hadn’t happened since their youth when Thor lifted Mjolnir for the first time, those plans faded into oblivion. 

“This was your doing.” 

_ No. _ Loki shook his head, backing away with his hands raised, open.  _ I didn’t do this. It just happened. If  _ you  _ had actually cared enough to look, when you were living on the same planet as your precious  _ father _ for years on end, you would have gotten to the bottom of this a lot easier. I gave you the life  _ you _ wanted- _

Thor’s lightning slammed into him before he could actually say anything. It wouldn’t have helped, anyway. Loki hit the ground, writhing in agony, and Thor was  _ enjoying _ it. 

It ended abruptly. 

“On your feet.” 

“No.” 

The two of them glared at each other for a long moment before Loki rolled upright, back to his brother, seated on the cold, hard ground. He hugged his knees to his chest, the only comfort allowed to him. Born on a planet that rejected him, raised on one that lied to him, why shouldn’t he die here, in a place where he’d never been anything other than feared and hated? 

_ Go on then, brother. If you’ve honestly decided to finally kill me, I can’t stop you. Maybe I could outmatch you in a fair fight, but that can never happen, because as I learned that day with the Destroyer in a Midgardian desert, killing you is like killing myself. I truly hope it will be different for you. But I won’t face you on my feet and let you cast yourself as the hero because you aren’t. You’ll have to do this cold. _

He knew a brief explosion of pain before everything faded to dusk. 

X 

That sound- 

It was nothing he hadn’t heard before. There had been so many deaths over the years, animals and Jotuns and Dark Elves and even occasional Aesir. The only surprise was how little felt different about what he’d just done. It meant nothing. Whatever bond he’d had with Loki, it was long gone. This was just an afterthought to the story. 

Mjolnir hit the ground hard, and the lightning fizzled out. 

_ Unworthy _

Who was his hammer of all entities in the universe to pass judgement? It never made decisions, it never had to lie awake at night worried about whether it had taken too many lives or not enough, or the wrong ones. And now, it had apparently decided that Loki was undeserving of death? Had it no idea of the lives lost to his schemes? 

Thor wrapped his fingers around the handle, already knowing it would not lift. Why did that bother him, of all things? Not what his parents would think, or what they  _ were _ thinking, if they could see him from Valhalla. Not what he would tell his friends when he returned to Asgard. Not even what he would say on his own death, when inevitably, he would have to account for every single life he had ever taken. 

His only moral compass was what a bloody  _ hammer _ thought of him. 

No wonder he was unworthy. 

X 

Hela found him in that exact spot, curled up on the ground in surrender just like Loki had been at the end. She could have killed him right then and there. He would have expected it of her. Obviously, he would have done the same. 

To his surprise, she didn’t even ask what had happened, or who they were. The former was obvious, and perhaps she’d kept one eye on her family after her imprisonment. It didn’t matter in any case. Numbly following orders, he collected Loki -so limp, so still- and stood. Fandral and Volstagg would bring them back as soon as he asked. 

He didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want to explain what he’d done. 

Thor’s bleak mood did not improve, at all, when Hela lifted Mjolnir like it was a feather. She seemed completely oblivious. Come to think of it, while she obviously recognized the legendary hammer, she had no way of knowing about Odin’s enchantment. Her own  _ worthiness- _ unless the spell was wearing off with Odin’s death. 

Yes. That had to be it. 

“Bring us back.” 

His voice sounded odd,  _ dead _ almost. Still, it achieved the desired result. The three of them were caught in the light of the Bifrost as it pulled them home. 

X 


	3. Jacket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter contains completely unhealthy views on sex, relationships, etc. I do not endorse these, but am merely trying to depict Asgardian culture. Read with care. 
> 
> Me: Let’s write this chapter in linear, chronological order. 
> 
> My muse: Hahano 
> 
> Me: Come on, I know what I want to do with this. 
> 
> Muse: You’ve been watching non-stop Doctor Who, and you want to tell a story in order? 
> 
> Me: Well... 
> 
> Muse: Trust me. This will work.

The three men at the Bifrost were, as far as Hela could tell, too surprised and confused to speak. No matter. She directed Thor, Loki’s limp, broken body still in his arms, towards the palace, and he went with halting steps. 

“Hey, uh-” 

The blonde man looked oddly familiar. Perhaps they’d known each other before the incident, but it made no difference. Hela gave him her best withering scowl, and he seemed to shrink. 

“Who’s in charge now?” 

“I am.” 

“Okay, then.” 

That was it. No more than that was needed. Hela directed the men to not let anyone come or go until she said otherwise, and they seemed compliant. Good. She would prefer Thor be the first person she killed in a millennium. 

X 

The palace hadn’t changed much. Servants were cleaning, or cooking, or tending to some other pointless task. Gold was everywhere, reflecting her distorted face back at her. It was a mess. She needed a bath, and a haircut- 

Finally, her old room. That hadn’t changed at all. Even her clothing was exactly where she’d left it, down to the jacket on her chair, needle and thread still dangling from it. Perhaps Frigga or even Odin had held onto hope that she would eventually return. That was more hope than she’d had for herself. 

“Bring the little one.” 

At her command, Thor trudged into the room and, at a wordless gesture from her, laid Loki on her bed. Then he stopped, as if unable to decide what to do next. Well. That was easily fixed. 

“Go to the dungeons. Pick a cell. Lock yourself in. Or if you prefer, I can have the guards drag you down there.” 

Thor nodded, wordlessly, and left her alone with Loki. Finally. 

Gently, she turned Loki over to check the back of his head. Just the one wound, horrible to look at, but that was it. She’d fixed worse, on him. Laying him back down, she planted a kiss on his forehead before collapsing into the chair, drained. 

The jacket’s ripped sleeves had been (badly) mended on the left side, and a few stitches completed on the right. Why she’d even bothered trying to repair it, she could no longer remember. The bloodstains had long since set, barely visible on the black cloth, but they still smelled- 

In an instant, she flashed back to the day they’d been made. 

X 

The healing rooms were a fluster of activity as Frigga arrived. Wounded soldiers were everywhere, in varying stages of being healed, resisting being healed, actively dying... 

It was enough to make one long for the simplicity of battle. 

The end of a war, especially one this violent, was bound to bring its own problems. Everyone had adjusted to life a certain way, focusing on nothing but getting through the war, and now, it was time to return to what was supposed to be normal life. 

For one thing, there were the prisoners. A few dozen, mostly healthy, but all of them caught in the unenviable middle between the unattained glorious death, and surviving to fight another day. No one wanted to be that person, who’d become dependent, for any length of time, on the good graces of the Jotuns. 

For instance Hela. 

Frigga’s step-daughter (and how odd it still felt, to call by that name a woman little younger than she) had vanished in the middle of a battle. Now they knew why. Having refused any medical attention, the dark-haired woman was busying herself tending to the injured. It gave her a purpose, apparently. 

Things had begun to stabilize -the dead carted away for a mass funeral, those least-injured sent home to recover, and so on- when Odin slipped into the back, blood covering his face. 

Finally, something to do. 

Frigga and Eir ushered Odin into a private room and began tending to his wound. He’d lost more blood than Frigga would have liked, but it was worth it. He couldn’t fight anymore. Let all other wars be fought by other warriors, and her husband lead from behind like a coward. 

Nothing protects like an obvious weakness. 

No sooner had they settled Odin into one of his Sleeps and finally stopped for breath, when an odd sound broke the silence. Frigga exchanged a brief, unspoken is that real with Eir before undoing her husband’s cloak to reveal the source. 

It was exactly what she’d thought. A tiny scrap of a baby, wrapped in black cloth, lay tucked into the straps across Odin’s chest. Those were supposed to be holding extra swords on his back, but those weapons were long gone. Asgard’s smiths would be well occupied crafting replacements that Frigga hoped would never be needed. 

“Hello there.” 

The baby opened green eyes to look at her. Couldn’t be a newborn, then. Eyes started off blue and darkened over time. Gently, she extracted him from Odin’s clothing and couldn’t resist giving him a cuddle. 

“Hello, little one.” 

Frigga unwrapped the baby and did a double take. His umbilical cord was still attached, ripped away as if someone had stolen him straight from his mother the instant he was born. But if he was a newborn, then his eyes-   
A glamour spell then. A quick spell to check revealed blue skin. Frigga and Eir locked eyes, apprehensive. Then Eir just held out her hands for the baby. 

“I’d better look him over. That cord needs attention...” 

Frigga passed her the baby, then noticed the cloth he was wrapped in. Her blood ran cold. 

“Oh, dear.” 

X 

Hela remembers it three different ways. 

The beginning is always the same. One minute it was glorious battle, as they always described it. In reality, the blood and the deaths -so many, so soon- would have destroyed anyone who remembered it accurately. 

They say if people remembered everything, there would be no more wars, and no more babies. 

Hela found herself chained in an icy cell, dried blood matting in her hair. The throbbing in her head suggested she would never recall her arrival there, and time had proven that notion correct. 

The Jotuns were not overly cruel to their prisoners. She was given blankets, food, light, and some freedom of movement on the chains. A nameless healer visited her periodically, washing the blood from her wounds, never saying a word. 

There must have been other prisoners, out of sight and sound. That was the first way it could have worked out, offering herself to Laufey in exchange for their lives. Some would call it heroism. Hela favored “cowardice”, that is, knowing that so many deaths, dishonorable and before the appointed time, would have tortured her mind until it inevitably snapped. Whatever her role in this story was to be, “hero” was not on the list. 

The idea that she and Laufey had fallen in love, absurd to the point of insanity, nonetheless held its place in her imagination’s fevered wanderings. It wasn’t like there had ever been anyone else. She hadn’t even tried. Love was, perhaps, a valid excuse for what must have happened between them. 

The last option was that she’d been violated in prison. That was probably it. The Jotuns would have loved to do exactly that to the daughter of their sworn enemy. It was the perfect insult. That would be the worst thing, having to go back home and explain why she’d lost her honor. People would question why she hadn’t killed herself in that cell, strangled herself with the chains or simply refused all food and water. It wouldn’t be the first time such things happened. 

X 

Hours felt like forever, but eventually, Eir returned with the baby cleaned and dressed, and Frigga took him to the nursery. Thor had long since fallen asleep in his playpen, and she knew without looking that he’d resisted being put to bed. Never mind. Just this once, she would let him do what he wanted. 

Laying the baby in the disused bassinet in the corner, she left the room with the pretense of visiting her husband. In reality, her projection left, closing the door behind itself, while Frigga lurked in the corner, invisible. 

Before too long, the door opened silently and Hela slipped in. Hesitantly, she approached the bassinet and stared at it for a long moment. The silence was broken by the baby starting to fuss, and Hela rubbed at her breasts awkwardly. That was all the confirmation Frigga needed. 

After checking the corners of the room, Hela hesitantly lifted the baby with all the awkwardness of someone who had literally never held one of those things before. Come to think of it, that was probably true. But this was her own child, now. That much was clear. 

Frigga’s projection “returned” and opened the door. Hela whirled around, still holding the baby. 

“Oh, hello. Where did this one come from?” 

It was rather disturbing, how convincing the lie was. Then again, Hela had been raised a diplomat and a leader. Lying was par for the course. 

Closing the door behind her projection, Frigga dismissed it and cast a quick spell. 

“The room is sealed. Even Heimdall won’t know what happens here.” 

For a moment, Hela completely froze. Then she seemed to crumple, just a little, holding the baby to her chest. 

Back when Frigga had been a servant of the court rather than its queen, Hela had brought back a rejected wolf pup. Said wolf now lived in the stables, and had been Hela’s favorite. Hopefully, any reunion would go smoothly. The oversized wolf was unresponsive to anyone else. This situation had an eerily similar feeling, although it was far more complicated. 

“How did he end up here?” 

“Odin had him hidden under his cloak. Must have found him somewhere on Jotunheim; I suppose I could ask him once he wakes up. He was wrapped in this.” 

Frigga held out the ripped jacket as if it were a peace offering. “I could try to clean it up, mend the sleeves-” 

Hela shook her head. “Thank you, but-” she looked down at the baby before snatching the jacket and wrapping it around him again. “I can take care of it.” 

The second meaning was not lost on Frigga. “Maybe we had another child, and decided not to announce it until the war was over. Maybe- whatever happened on Jotunheim made you realize how much your brothers mattered, and you decided to help with taking care of the little one.” 

The look on Hela’s face might have been relief, or gratitude, but then again, that could have been wishful thinking. Then: 

“Maybe his name is Loki.” 

X 

Whatever the circumstances that the universe used to create another way for it to know itself, it was of no concern to Hela. She only knew who the father was, or was supposed to be, from one of the guards who had given her extra food as a “reward” for carrying a new prince. 

Hela had known the exact instant she conceived. That same sense that no one else seemed to possess, that told her when someone was about to die, somehow kicked in to tell her about a new life. She never could figure out how she was supposed to feel about it. It had just happened, and it was her lot to deal with it. 

Locked in a windowless cell, lit only by the strange blue glow that the ice gave off, Hela soon lost track of the days, weeks, months. She knew the pattern of the occasional meals, licked moisture from the walls, resented her arms and legs being chained to the ice, and simply endured. The only change was the ever-so-gradual swelling inside her robes, and eventually, a persistent stirring inside her. It felt like nothing so much as when her eyelid developed a twitch, only in her womb instead. 

The day came when she awoke to a painful squeezing, and she knew the time had come. With no idea how long she’d been imprisoned, or how long a hybrid child would need to gestate, she could only hope the ends would meet. The baby was coming, ready or not. Time to prepare. 

Hela crawled as far as the chains would allow her away from the hole in the corner. It wasn’t much. The cell was only large enough for a few steps, even without being cuffed to the wall. Think, think... Her clothing. She’d been wearing it for months, several layers against the cold, only removing what was necessary. But now- 

Falling to her knees, she undid her pants down to her knees. Bunched up, they provided some cushioning from both the cold and the harder-than-rock ice floor. Okay. Good. Those were steps towards a safe delivery. 

Another pain hit, stronger than before. Hela doubled over, muttering every expletive she knew of under her breath. When it passed, her head cleared for a moment, and she realized she needed something to wrap the baby in. The jacket she was still wearing was the only thing that made sense, but getting it off was a struggle. Eventually, she became frustrated and just ripped the sleeves out to get it untangled from her chains. 

Her chains. When did she start owning them? Maybe around the same time she started referring to the baby as hers and even thought of names for it. Him. Her. Whatever. 

Another contraction knocked everything else out of her mind. When it passed, she laid the jacket on the ground just so, and focused on pushing through the agony. Can’t be much longer, right? It’ll have to come out sooner or later. Come on, little one. Can’t you- kick your way out or something? 

For one long moment, she knew nothing but pain. Pain as her belly squeezed, pain as the baby stretched her body to the breaking point, and every fiber of her being wished for it to be over so she could rest. 

Someone must have heard her wish, because as soon as the baby landed on the ground, she passed out and did likewise. 

X 

Total silence, broken only by her own breathing and heartbeat. 

The pain had eased somewhat, but her entire lower body had the feeling of having run from dawn until dusk without so much as a water break. That wasn’t all that far from what it had actually done, come to think of it. 

The absence of her baby hit like a bolt of lightning. It and the jacket were gone, leaving only the placenta and torn-off umbilical cord lying in a puddle of frozen blood. Tears soaked her cheeks. That hadn’t happened in years. 

By the time the soldiers found her, she’d managed to compose herself. The placenta, she’d eaten, as if she’d been demoted from princess of Asgard to a wild animal. The blood, she’d washed down the hole with meltwater. No one would have guessed what had happened. 

She hadn’t expected to see her offspring again. 

X 

This wasn’t how she’d pictured a reunion. It was supposed to be on Asgard, not a Midgardian clifftop. Loki was supposed to be alive. Thor wasn’t supposed to have turned as psychopathic as she. And of course, she would have liked to see Frigga and Odin again. 

None of that mattered anymore. 

Hela couldn’t bring herself to look at Loki’s body again. She trudged out of the room, locking the door behind her. 

A quick check of the dungeons verified that Thor was safely locked away in a cell full of destroyed furniture. There was probably a story there, to be learned at a later date. Something would have to be done with him, but not now. Things had to be done first. 

The Vault should have been guarded, but little of what was inside it actually warranted it. The Casket- useless to anyone but a Jotun. A gauntlet- obviously stolen in an effort to prevent the Mad Titan from using it, but she could easily tell it was a fake. The one on the Vault held none of the stain of a deadly weapon. The Tesseract held some of that stain, of lives lost or saved by its power. The crown of Surtur, next to it, held so much potential, although it had yet to actually touch death. 

But then there was the Eternal Flame. Every step closer to it strengthened the pull. It held so much power, to restore life taken too early, to mimic life past the appointed time, and yet, to take life if it were used to such purpose. She would have thought it God were it not so compliant to her own wishes. 

Extending her hand, she snatched a twist of fire from it before spinning on her heel and exiting without a backward glance. 

X 

“Loki.” 

There was a profound lack of response from her son. She kissed him on his forehead before placing the flame in his mouth. 

“With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn.” 

Loki stirred fitfully before opening his eyes to meet hers.


	4. Interlude

It was freezing. 

Which was strange, come to think of it, since Loki was supposed to be Jotun. Then again, he’d gotten cold several times. Maybe it was his Aesir glamour, or the fact that he was just terrible at being Jotun. Something to worry about later. 

Later. 

Wasn’t he dead? 

Why was he on Jotunheim? 

Laufey, who last he checked was long dead and  _ disintegrated _ by his own hand, unlocked a door in the ice wall. Loki wished he could see inside, and then suddenly he stood inside the room -cell- where a half-naked woman with dark hair lay curled up on the ice. Laufey knelt beside her, smirking in a way Loki hoped didn’t look too much like his own. 

He tried to avoid looking directly at the woman, hoping to preserve her modesty even though he was coming to realize he’d technically already seen it all. His much younger self lay halfway on a torn piece of black cloth, quietly fussing. Laufey picked him up with no great pains to be gentle, ripping in half the cord that still bound him to his- 

_ Am I not your mother? _

_ You’re not. _

Loki wished he could have that moment back. 

X 

Bright sunshine, this time. 

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes properly. 

_ Mother. _

“Hello, little one.” 

Loki threw his arms around her, then stiffened in shock as he realized she was actually  _ solid _ . 

“Mother.” 

She smiled at him, and wiped away tears he hadn’t realized he was shedding. That pretty much summed up their entire relationship. 

“Am I dead?” 

“For the moment. Not for long. It’s not your time yet.” 

“What if I don’t want to go back?” 

That drew a shocked look from Frigga. After a moment, it passed. She clutched him to her, tucking his head under her chin like he was a child again. He’d always been so fond of touch from her and Thor. 

Thor... 

“Do you- How much did you see?”  _ Do you know I nearly -actually?- died saving Thor, then the next time we saw each other, he tried to kill me until he actually succeeded? Am I supposed to to tell you that *all* of your children are apparently insane? _

“I know.” 

Her fingers ran through his hair now, as if even dead, she still wanted him looking presentable. Not that he could actually see her, just sound and touch. He couldn’t see  _ anything _ , come to think of it. 

“Why would I  _ want _ to go back? I’ve got nothing left. No you, no Thor, not even Odin and whatever we were supposed to have...” 

“Hello, Loki.” 

Of course. Can’t die and see Mother without seeing...  _ him _ . Ask, and ye shall receive. Was that how this new reality worked? All you have to do is think and the world changes to match it. 

_ I wish to be- _

_ I don’t even know what I want anymore. _

Odin took Loki’s hands gently. 

“Let me show you something.” 

X 

Back to Jotunheim. 

It was a different building this time, and Loki could hazard a reasonable guess which one. Odin stood beside him, watching his younger self trudge through a blizzard that seemed to be Jotunheim rejecting the invading Asgradian army like a person’s body raising a fever to get rid of an infection. No wonder that they’d drawn up a truce and left them to their own devices rather than leaving a garrison behind. 

Come to think of it, no wonder Odin had wanted him to bridge the gap between their worlds. 

The younger, tired-looking, freshly de-eyed Odin trudged past the building, then for some unknown reason, turned on his heel and slipped inside the broken-open door. 

“Why did you go inside?” 

Just like that, they were inside the building. Overturned benches, scattered belongings, and a few dead bodies filled the single room. Ice sculptures and carvings on the walls provided an eerie echo of Asgard’s own decorations. Were the two really so different? 

“I couldn’t tell you why at the time. Something just- pulled me in. Maybe it was you, asking for help. I like to think that, anyway.” 

That seemed reasonable enough. 

Young Odin summoned a werelight to hover an inch above his palm and checked the corners for threats, slowly circling the room. When the gold light illuminated a tiny, crying bundle of black, he still had the sense to check around it for anyone else before cautiously approaching. 

“Oh, no.” 

At the younger’s comment, Loki gave the older a raised eyebrow. He shrugged. “It made things a lot more complicated. No, I wasn’t thrilled that an innocent Jotun existed. I would have preferred to always think of them as villains. Just by showing up, you changed things. But that’s always you, keeping the rest of Asgard on their toes.” 

Young Odin lifted the baby gently and the loud fussing gradually faded to infant babbling. Odin actually smiled at him, then tugged at the cloth with a look of slowly emerging horror. Tucking the baby inside his cloak, he left the building at a brisk walk, disappearing within seconds. 

Older Odin put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “That was when I realized who your mother was.” 

“By which you mean Hela.” 

“Even all these years later, you  _ still _ catch me off guard.” 

“Oh, I excel at that.” 

“Before I put that together, I suppose I was thinking of having Heimdall find your birth parents, or someone else who could have raised you. I did eventually ask him about you; that was when he said Laufey was your- well, father isn’t the right word. Definitely not. I suppose he wanted me to find you, to know what he’d done to my daughter, just as one last insult. What that meant for you, I’m sure wasn’t good. I brought you to Asgard, then ended up Sleeping for a while. By the time I woke up, I had a son out of nowhere and it was time to rebuild. I just- you were proof that I couldn’t protect my own daughter from my worst enemy, and I tried to forget that. I should have told you the truth much sooner. I’m sorry.” 

By the time Odin finished speaking, the scene had faded to black again. Loki had an odd sensation of being pulled  _ backwards _ and pain that he hadn’t even noticed fading into warmth. 

“With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn.” 

X 

Eyelids opened to a burst of gold. 

“Hello.” 

“It’s Hel _ a.”  _


	5. Prisoners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn’t it weird how just by cutting power to specific pixels on a screen, I can convince people they are actually hearing my voice?

This was bad. 

The gold walls echoed, distorted, and magnified Thor’s face back at him. Every which way he turned, his massive guilt, covered with the ostentatious facade that was Asgardian royalty, glared back at him. 

“I’m sorry, little one.” 

X 

For a few centuries, Hela had scratched a mark in the wall each day. Eventually, she began to worry that the constant scratching would cause a collapse of the only decent cave she’d been able to find. The count stopped at over two hundred thousand. 

It wasn’t the worst arrangement. She had some extra clothes, a few blankets, some basic equipment. Enough, that is, to feed herself and make something of a home out of her cave. 

It was still a prison. 

Times like these, she was eternally glad for the dead souls. They were the only people she could talk to, even if they were, well, dead. How screwed up was that? 

Hel was Hel. 

X 

Even the stars were unfamiliar. 

Loki had spent much of his youth gazing up at the night sky, showing off to Thor how many constellations he could name. That unlearned oaf only knew one- the warrior. Classic. 

Chained to a barren rock, unable to so much as roll onto his side, it was just as well he loved stars. They were the only good thing in his miserable existence. 

Periodically, Thanos or the Other or the various members of the Black Order or the Chitauri would pay a visit. He quickly lost track of broken bones, whip marks, burns, times his skin was peeled back and forced to heal just to be maimed again. 

When Aesir royalty needed help, they asked the All-Fathers. That was obviously not going to work for him. The one he’d called  _ father _ had been close enough to touch for his entire life, and what good had that been? The only good thing Odin had ever done was saving him as a newborn, and Loki honestly- 

No, not quite. Frigga and Thor- 

They’d been worth it. He did wish he’d died on impact. Come to think of it, perhaps he had. He would have liked to stay that way. 

If he were to pray for death, whom would he be addressing? Who listened to the prayers of a Jotun reject?  _ Someone _ had to be out there. 

So he picked the stars, lying on his scourged back chained to an unforgiving rock. That hazy cluster over there, that was the Valkyries that would carry him away sooner or later so he could rest for all eternity. Hel, preferably. He never did understand the appeal of Valhalla, where one did nothing but eat and  _ talk _ . Too much talking. 

Of course, it wasn’t like he had anyone to talk to. 

Right at the top of the sky, one tiny green star orbited a larger, paler one. Frigga had read him a story once, and he’d never forgotten. Seven brothers and the sister who had joined them because they needed her. The bilgesnipe herd had chased them into the sky to be together forever, with the sister keeping the youngest one close by. None of them had to be alone, ever. 

No wonder the abandoned child loved that story. 

If he kept this up, he would lose his grip on reality. He would never be able to remember if he was Loki or “Asgardian” or abandoned infant or Thanos’ black sheep of the Black Order. Then again, that wasn’t so bad. 

Over just above that rock, that one is the biggest fantasy of all: the planet where he belongs. 

X 

The milk dried up long ago. 

Even in the womb, Fenris knew something was wrong with big-warm-and-food-thing. That rythmic pounding slipped to irregularity now and again. The food and oxygen coming through the cord was not what it should have been. 

Her two littermates ceased moving soon enough. 

The day of squeezing came, but it was not enough, and it stopped all too quickly. The pounding followed in time. 

Fenris, lacking any other options, chewed her way out of her dead mother. The first milk came from what was left of her mother, and gave her the one meal all newborns require. 

The bodies of her siblings and mother fed her for the next few days. 

The dark-haired Asgardian child who found her bore the same mark of death. Within moments, they had become close friends. 

The wolf of the dead gorged itself on both bodies and the energy of dead souls. Nourished by every death, every battle, she grew to enormous size, yet obeyed her mistress without question. The two may as well have been one. The Helafenris. 

Hela made a horrible mistake, and was locked away in her prison planet. Fenris howled for  _ years _ . Locked in the stables was no way to live, and ultimately it was Frigga who suggested ending her suffering. 

If only that were the end. 

Fenris could no longer move or protest, but she felt the final blow, the chains binding her to the table underneath the Vault. If her eyes had not been closed to make it look like she peacefully slept, she would have seen the dead bodies of many of Asgard’s soldiers. 

Being blind was a mercy. The only mercy allowed to the wolf of Ragnarok. 

Every once in a while, she screamed for her best friend. 

X 

That one of the books his so-called mother sent him contained a spell to erase himself from the universe was a nice thought, but nothing more. 

Loki couldn’t even remember learning how to read. Frigga once told him he’d taught himself, and he decided he believed her. 

Normally, a cell such as this held only a shelf for sleeping, a ring for chains should the need arise, a hatch for food and water, and what was necessary for basic hygiene. His own, in which he was supposed to spend the rest of his life, held a couch that served for both sleep and lounging, a small stack of books that he had to struggle to ration so as to not burn through all of them in one night. Which had happened before. 

Criminals or “criminals” filled the cells around him, the guards dragging in more and more each day. No trials or even proper sentences for them, he was sure. They would be down here until Ragnarok. 

It was mercy, years later and completely unknown to his present self, to purge the cells of whoever remained after the Dark Elves’ attack. Most of the prisoners died, while a few were exiled to one planet or another. Loki, as Odin, did far more than anyone ever saw. 

For today, though, he had to content himself with reading a single page of one of the books. As far as he knew, they were all he had to last him the rest of his life. 

X 

Out of all the places to be exiled, Thor would later realize that an entire planet was nowhere near the worst. There were humans everywhere, including one he never did stop loving. He met friends he would need for the upcoming battles, and they would need him equally so. 

But all of that was to come. For now, he’d lost his hammer, his father was dead, his mother refused to let him home, and only Loki even deigned to speak to him. This was an absolute nightmare. 

In the end, all he had was Loki. Underappreciated, taken-for-granted, always-in-Thor’s-shadow Loki. The only person he could rely on totally. 

Even after everything he would end up doing, that would always be true. 

Selvig broke him out far too easily and took him for a drink, simply to spite the son of Coul. They talked over the meaning of life, Jane’s background, everything except the events that had brought him to Midgard. Those were no longer relevant. They’d happened on a different planet, to a fundamentally different person. 

He felt so  _ weak _ , so  _ old _ . How long could he live like this? 

This was bad. 

X 

Sunset, or so Hela assumed, cast a red haze through the blue ice, and the resulting purple light turned the green trim of her clothing an ugly brown. 

The baby kicked. Again. 

The muscles for smiling were sore and stiff from disuse, but it felt good anyway. She rubbed at the baby, and he (she?) kicked on the other side. Or punched. Maybe it was even lashing out with some limb that she herself lacked. 

It would be born, sooner or later. Then maybe she could go home and pretend this never happened. She lacked the nerve to explain to Odin or even Frigga what had happened to her. 

Come to think of it, it would be best if they found her with the baby, so she wouldn’t have to hide it, or tell them. Preferably before it was born, so it would be safe. 

No getting rid of it, one way or another. She was already attached. 

If only she weren’t trapped and dependent on the whims of her planet’s worst enemy. 


	6. Frozen

To the guest who reviewed: Thank you. As to the last one, I think I’ll have it be the other way around, actually. Loki teaching himself to read is based on my own experience. 

X 

“Hello.” 

“It’s Hel _ a _ .” 

_ Okay, that explains where I got my sense of humor. _

“I’m Loki, but maybe you already knew that.” 

Hela nodded. “I gave you that name.” 

“So... that was real? You... gave birth to me?” 

“I did.” 

Loki tried to sit up, and his head throbbed violently before Hela put a hand on his forehead. 

“Don’t move. You’re still hurt. You need time to heal.” 

“I- oh.” Everything came rushing back all at once. Thor returning, looking for Odin, Odin’s death, Thor’s anger. 

_ Thor- _

_ Blinding pain and guilt and damn it if he didn’t still love his  _ **_brother_ ** _ - _

Hela put her arms around him, gently. He realized he was gasping for air, blood pounding in his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “ _ Help me _ .” 

That wasn’t supposed to be out loud. He wasn’t supposed to reveal any weakness. That had been drilled into him at a painfully early age. Impress Odin so he’ll take you to Asgard. Show Frigga potential so she’ll teach you magic. Show off to Thor so he’ll take you on quests and count you with his friends and appreciate you- 

He was starting to forget why that was ever a goal. 

Hela wrapped him in her strong arms and he drifted off again. 

X 

Loki needed time to heal. Time Hela couldn’t spend watching him. There were advisors to assuage, petitioners to process, diplomats to deceive. Life as the de facto queen of Asgard was hours of boredom and seconds of terror. 

Why did  _ anyone  _ want this? 

On Vanaheim, they selected leaders every few years, at random. It was considered a mandatory service. There was plenty to that. Perhaps it was time for Asgard to develop something similar. 

Thor was a puzzle that would need to be solved sooner or later. For now, he was out of trouble, but he had friends who could cause problems. Problems that would make her developing headache morph into something with horns and fangs. 

Hela dropped her armload of papers onto her desk and collapsed on the couch, watching Loki. He’d rolled over at least once while she was gone; that had to be a good sign. She would have to come up with some sort of arrangements, and fast. 

Loki still slept, or had gone back to sleep, when she returned to her room carrying the papers she’d promised to look over. A few were supposed to be treaties, and- 

She couldn’t remember, and what few words she’d learned how to read along with Thor, such as her own name, had faded into obscurity during centuries of isolation. Maybe Loki could help her with them. 

As if summoned by the thought, a prospect she couldn’t readily dismiss, Loki opened his eyes and tried to sit up again. He lifted his hands to his bilgesnipe-nest hair, checking for injury. Hela caught his hands gently, guiding them back down to the covers while she checked his injury.  _ Good. _ Everything was where it was supposed to be, healing quickly enough, but still covered in half-dried blood. Loki whimpered as she examined him, and she made a mental note to clobber Thor, repeatedly. 

“Shh. It’s healing fine, just bruised. I do think you should clean it, though.” Then she noticed how badly Loki was shaking just sitting up. “I could help you if you like.” 

Soon enough, Loki lounged gingerly in a bathtub, soaking in lukewarm water  _ because of course he doesn’t like heat, he’s half-Jotun _ . Hela set about cleaning his hair, noting with some amusement that Loki still wore his underclothes. She’d seen everything he came with many times over, caring for him all those years ago, but as far as Loki was concerned, they’d only just met. Still, it felt very  _ right _ , helping her son in the bath. 

When they finished, Loki began to crawl towards his wardrobe when Hela noticed something. The skin on his back  _ shimmered _ for an instant and Hela felt her breath catch. Some sort of scar, was it? Hidden under a glamour- 

“What are you hiding?” She put her hand on his shoulder, but he slapped it away in an instant. 

“ _ Don’t _ .” 

“I’m sorry, I was just-” 

“You don’t- I have things I haven’t told  _ anyone _ , and you honestly think you can just step out of a portal and demand all my secrets? You aren’t even-” something seemed to catch in his words, and he slumped, looking defeated and exhausted. After a moment, he continued, breathlessly. 

“Where were you when I was growing up? I could have used someone to-” He fell back, lying flat on the floor. Hela wordlessly pulled his knees together and up, forcing the blood to his head. After a moment, Loki’s agitation subsided, replaced by exhaustion. 

“Why weren’t you there?” 

Hela hesitated to respond, and in that moment, Loki went limp again. That was a relief. Maybe he wouldn’t ask again. She didn’t want to tell him how quickly it had all fallen apart. One minute she’d been nursing her baby like any other mother, trying to restore his absent glamour, the next some long-forgotten maid had seen her, then the whole palace knew- 

She hadn’t been trying to kill them, just wipe their memories. For all the difference that made when her limited grasp of sorcery had unleashed a rampage. Only Frigga’s magic protecting the nursery had saved herself and the boys. 

It hadn’t been Loki’s fault. But would he ever believe that? There were times even she blamed him. Her banishment was a consequence of his existence. 

She threw a blanket over him and left him on the floor. He wouldn’t believe any kindness from her. Too many people had lied to him in his life. 

Maybe he shouldn’t trust her. 

X 

After a swift and decisive declaration that petitioners would only be heard on three specific days of the week, Hela found herself with far more time in her day. Today’s pastime was laying claim to one of the horses, a nice dark brown mare to match her long-lost Fenris, and taking her for a quick ride through a nice field. 

Happily exercised, feeling properly  _ alive _ again, Hela stopped by the kitchens for dinner. She was actually  _ hungry _ \- how long had that been? Collecting, preparing and eating food had been out of habit more than anything else. Perhaps it had not even been real; had her punishment included losing her grip on her own mind? What grip she’d had to begin with. Between Odin’s particular brand of parenting, the constant barrage of dead souls -three from Asgard just since she’d arrived- and whatever trouble had latched on to her mind in adolescence and never truly let go, something was profoundly  _ wrong _ with her mind, and being locked away for that long certainly hadn’t helped. 

When the pleasant young cook asked what exactly she wanted for dinner, Hela, to her shame, drew a complete blank. She couldn’t even remember her own favorite foods, and Loki hadn’t even tasted anything but milk when she’d “left”. Her own son, and she had no idea what kind of a person he’d become while she wasn’t looking. 

Eventually, she came away with a tray of biscuits, honey, sliced cheese, and fruit juice. No meat. Hela couldn’t stomach more death at the moment. 

The door was locked, but a soft knock and “Loki, it’s me” brought the bolt sliding back. To her surprise, Loki was still on the floor, crabwalking around the room. He scuttled away as she walked in, eyes full of distrust. Little wonder. He had no reason to trust her or anyone else. 

“I brought some food, if you’re interested.” She set it on the floor near him. “I mean, I guess I still brought it even if you’re not...” 

Loki let out a halfhearted chuckle. “Guess... I got... sense of humor...” 

Hela felt a surge of mirth -at least the fifth time that day she caught herself thinking  _ that’s been a while _ \- as she watched Loki pick at the food. Eventually, she broke the silence. 

“Are you having trouble walking?” 

Loki shrugged, then winced. “I get lightheaded. Everything’s a bit sore.” Setting down a half-eaten biscuit, he lay down on the floor again, shutting his eyes. Then: 

“What’d you do with Thor?” 

Ah, yes. The inevitable question. Still not fully resolved. 

“He’s in the dungeons. He can’t hurt you again. I guess it’s up to you what we do with him.” 

“ _ Later _ .” 

“Okay.” 

X 

Days passed, with Loki gradually improving, until eventually, he’d recovered enough for Hela to ask him the  _ big _ question. 

No, the  _ other _ big question. 

“Can you help me learn to read?” 

Loki, his own nose in a book, glanced up at her with a look of total bewilderment. “You-” he actually closed the book and sat upright. “Never learned?” 

Hela shook her head. “I knew how to put my name on whatever  _ Odin _ said to. That was all I needed to know, to sign whatever officially took two people to approve. Except, of course, I had no idea what I was signing and just did whatever he said, so it was... pointless.” 

Only now, with Odin not-dearly departed, did she fully realize the extent of his manipulations. 

Loki didn’t even look shocked. “Well, we’re not going to do that. I’ll see what I can help with, but I can’t even remember learning to read, so I might not be much help. Where do we start?” 

Hela dumped the pile of papers she’d been agonizing over for a week into his lap, and doubled over laughing at the look on his face. 

X 

For an entire week, the two of them remained in their chambers, only opening the door for occasional food deliveries. Loki read, and -with far more difficulty-  _ interpreted _ the documents for Hela, and helped her determine which ones to approve, alter, reject, keep for nostalgic laughter, or destroy with fire. 

Finally, they’d gotten through everything, sent it where it needed to go, and emerged from their stuffy room blinking like Midgardians after a pandemic. To Hela’s surprise, Loki actually grabbed her hand and dragged her outside, saying he had something he wanted to show her. He actually seemed excited, for the first time since she’d arrived. That had to be a good sign, right? He was beginning to care again. 

He led her to a garden filled with roses, and Hela recognized it instantly. Idunn’s tree in the middle, surrounded by a fountain. That, she’d seen before, every time she came for an apple. Back then, it had been surrounded by dead rock. Now, plants of every description and color filled in the gaps. 

“This is my mother’s garden; she grew all the-” Loki cut himself off, and crumpled just a bit. Hela knew without asking that it was awkward to refer to Frigga as his mother while standing right next to the woman who’d actually given birth to him. 

“Call her your mother if you like. I’ve acted like you were my brother often enough, it might as well be true.” 

“Okay, sister.” Loki made an odd face, as if he’d just tasted something unexpected. 

“What- never said that before?” 

“Actually, no. Thor and I-” here a deep, shuddering breath “-we just called each other ‘brother’ like we didn’t even have names. Can’t really think of when that started, just...” 

Loki trailed off, caught in the demons of what had been done to him. Internally, Hela cursed Thor for the fifth time that day. Leaving her “brother” to enjoy the garden, she trudged back inside. 

There was something she needed to do. 

X 

The hallway to the treasure vault was punctuated between every pillar by some sort of artwork. Abstract sculptures, seidr-grown plants, “historical” tapestries, and of course, statues. The latter being invariably described as “larger-than-life”, “solid gold”... 

Of course, in reality, they were only a few feet tall, distorted by the curved, mirror-polished gold around them to  _ look _ impressive. Besides which, solid gold would have been far too heavy, and a quick rap of her knuckles on the nearest figure confirmed that they were actually hollow. 

Part of her wanted to tear the entire palace apart and rebuild it out of something less  _ fake _ . But that would have to wait. 

One statue caught her attention, that of a young, pregnant woman surrounded by half a dozen children. It touched some childhood memory. This may have been her favorite, way back when. She couldn’t read the nameplate, or the description, but the name  _ Gersemi _ came to mind. Goddess of treasure. Surrounded by life, by the future, the actual treasure. None of that  _ gold _ , stolen from the dead and conquered, with no value other than what is assigned to it by virtue of it being both difficult to attain and completely impractical for any mundane use. Yes, she was very tempted to smash every  _ other _ statue to bits. 

As she walked away, something  _ clenched _ in her stomach, doubling her over for a brief moment. All at once, she was back in that cell, trying to push Loki out into a cold, hard world. Then it passed. 

It happened twice more by the time she reached her actual destination, the Eternal Flame. She put one hand in it -the flames were, as ever, painless- and asked one simple question:  _ If I had arrived sooner, could I have saved Loki? _

Fire swirled around her and showed her an answer she didn’t expect. 

X 

“So he’s gone then.” 

By the looks of things, Hela’s slightly younger self had arrived just in time. Thor and Loki faced off, but put that aside to deal with the new threat. Story of their lives. 

Loki tried to negotiate, and predictably, Thor bungled it by throwing a hammer at her because she ordered them to kneel. She was rightfully queen, and what, exactly, had Thor hoped to accomplish by smashing her with a hammer? 

Did he ever expect anything before he smashed it? He deserved to lose that stupid hammer. Let him try using his  _ brain _ , such as he has it. 

Loki called for the Bifrost and, at Thor’s bidding, tried to attack her mid-transit. The first event that caught Hela by surprise was her own reaction- smashing Loki out of the beam into oblivion. But even that wasn’t so bad. He would find his way back to her sooner or later. 

Thor followed shortly, to no regret of hers. He was nothing but trouble. 

Deaths began quickly after her arrival, from the nameless pair at the Bifrost to most of the army. That was certainly believable. She’d turned on deserters from their own army countless times before her banishment, with or without Odin’s permission. 

Had she improved so little during the time spent in Helheim? 

Why not? She’d had no reason to improve. She still didn’t even then- no Loki to care for. There hadn’t been the gut-wrenching pain of Loki’s death -her own son, and so absolutely, horrifically  _ wrong _ \- 

Sometimes one has to lose something to realize how precious it is. 

Hela wanted to halt the playback, but it had seized hold of her and  _ would not _ let go. 

Heimdall snatched the sword but didn’t even use it. He gathered together the common people -no concern of hers, what they got up to in their insignificant lives- and made some attempt to safeguard them. Even the real Hela thought that was stupid- she would have left  _ them _ alone as long as they stayed out of her way. 

Thor eventually returned and cast himself as the hero. Naturally. No sign of Loki, and Hela caught a glimpse of him lying on a floor, unable to scream. 

Whatever else this timeline brought, it wasn’t Thor being a good brother. 

Thor started a fight with her, and she put his eye out tidily. Like father, like son, and now he was less of a threat to both her and Loki. 

Loki. 

The little one showed up right at the end, but they didn’t interact. Thor told him to unleash Surtur -whose crown was in reality stored only feet away- and of course, Loki did as he was told. It wasn’t even the first time he’d tried blowing up a planet to please a family member who didn’t deserve all the love the little one had to give. She couldn’t blame him for that. 

Her past self, naturally horrified, lashed out with everything she had left, trapping the escaping citizens in a futile attempt to force Thor and his allies to stop Surtur, because they couldn’t blow up the planet with everyone still on it, right? 

_ Right? _

The pictures faded to black, and that was a relief. 

X 

How could she have gone so badly wrong with one tiny change? She certainly had no intention of throwing  _ Loki _ of all people out of the Bifrost- 

-not like she would mind, since she could easily bring him back, every time- 

-or of slaughtering everyone who got in her way- 

-but wouldn’t you enjoy that many deaths when since they’re soldiers they’ll go straight to Valhalla and you never have to deal with them again and it won’t even hurt because their time to die became fluid as soon as they signed up- 

-or putting Thor’s eye out- 

- _ ahem _ \- 

Okay,  _ that _ , she definitely  _ would  _ do. That, and so much worse. Guilty as charged. 

Blood. She could smell  _ blood _ . 

Hela practically fled from the vault, making her way to her chambers at a dead run. Loki had returned and was napping on a couch by the window. Good. He would ask too many questions. Like why on the Nine the only two options involved at least one of his siblings becoming completely, irretrievably  _ evil _ . 

No, that was not a story she was willing to tell even him. 

Back in the washroom, Hela stripped off every stitch of her clothing. She hadn’t bothered changing anything since her escape; it hadn’t even occurred to her. She was still wearing what she’d worn on that day all those years ago, down to the milk stains on the blouse. And now, blood stains on her pants. 

The blood still in her veins ran ice cold. 

She’d been locked in Helheim for over twelve hundred of Asgard’s years, which she’d verified shortly after her arrival. There had been storms. She’d gathered wood for fires, or to build what furniture she required. There were memories of catching fish, scavenging mushrooms, and eating them, but never enough to live on. She had no recollection of trimming her nails, or cutting her hair, for the entire time. She’d certainly never  _ bled _ , not since before Loki. And yet- 

The clothes still fit,  _ perfectly _ ; no lost weight or gained muscle mass as one would have expected. Her hair fell into the  _ exact _ same number of twists when she braided it. Her fingernails were still perfectly smooth and trimmed just like Frigga had insisted she keep them. Her face looked  _ exactly _ the same in the mirror, like she hadn’t aged a day. If she hadn’t, was Thor actually the oldest? She couldn’t remember the birth dates for either of them, but it had to be on record somewhere. 

Had she been -for lack of a better word-  _ frozen _ for all that time? Suspended in time, or outside of time, or- 

- _ dead _ \- 

If so, at least it was reversible. The pain in her belly was proof enough that her body was, finally, returning to what had ever passed for  _ normal _ . Her mind, though- 

No wonder she’d come so close to unleashing Hel so horrible that  _ Ragnarok _ was the only solution. She’d been unable to exorcise her own demons, instead being tormented by them for over a thousand years of- what, exactly? Odin hadn’t made any effort to  _ fix _ her, only containing her for the next generation to deal with. 

Fortunately, he was already dead, or she would have tracked him down to kill him repeatedly. 

A loud cluster of words she  _ definitely _ hadn’t taught Loki broke her out of her reverie in time to catch him scuttling away from the door with an embarrassed apology. The door closed behind him, and Hela couldn’t resist bursting out  _ laughing _ . 

Her entire life made absolutely no sense. 


	7. Confess

Loki joined her for a breakfast of biscuits and fruit, after a few weeks recovered enough to walk around all the time. She knew without asking that he’d had trouble sleeping; the black circles under his eyes could have passed for bruises. 

“Bad dreams?” 

Loki spent an inordinate amount of time slathering honey on a biscuit, but showed no particular interest in eating it. After a few moments, he shrugged. 

“I can’t really tell the difference between dreams and memories anymore. My memories got scrambled a while back, from...” 

He trailed off, staring at Hela inquisitively before he began to munch on his biscuit. Hela took a wild stab at what the problem was this time. 

“I was Odin’s executioner, back before you. I claimed countless lives, just because Dad said to. One of his brothers, even. I never did ask why. Come to think of it, he never killed anyone himself. He really was a coward. The whole golden palace was built on sand and no one even noticed. Or cared. So don’t feel like I’m going to condemn. You can tell me anything.” 

With an air of  _ challenge accepted _ , Loki blurted out, “I tried to destroy an entire planet.” 

Hela nearly choked on her apple juice and swallowed hard. “...which one?” 

“Jotunheim.” 

She had to bite back a smile. “I probably would have done that, too. I wouldn’t have minded, before I got you.” 

“I sort of, maybe, tried to take over and rule Midgard.” 

“Odin and I actually did that, to Midgard and most of the Nine. But- what do you mean ‘sort of’?” 

“It wasn’t  _ exactly _ me doing it. I ran into a Titan -they were supposed to be extinct- and he sort of...  _ convinced _ me to conquer Midgard and find the Infinity Stones-” 

At that, Hela actually spat out her drink. The Infinity Stones were the stuff of legend- but so were the Asgardians. The Titans had been wiped out in some sort of planetary cataclysm when she was a child. If one of them had come back and- 

Well it wouldn’t be the strangest event in the universe. That thing was  _ weird _ . 

“Is he still out there?” 

Loki shuddered. “As far as I know. I haven’t been able to look. He was after the Infinity Stones, and we’ve got one here, as guarded as I can make it. At least two are on Midgard, with more defending them than you’d think. Then there was one with some odd creature called the Collector. Two more, I don’t know. Thor was looking, before...” 

“We’re going to have to figure out what to do with him, sooner or later.” 

“I know. I don’t want him to die, and I can’t just see him locked away forever, but he can handle a bit longer. Both of us have been through worse.” 

“I suppose so. What was Thanos trying to do with the Stones?” 

Loki hesitated for a moment, then burst out all in a rush. “He wanted to wipe out half of the universe. The Chitauri -that’s his army- were supposed to kill half of every city on Midgard, probably not the first time, but then he could do it all at once with the Stones, and he had this gauntlet so he could use all of them, and not just kill, like unmake, so they never existed, and is that even possible-” 

Hela cut him off with a hug, the two having become more comfortable around each other in the intervening time. It also hid her reaction, her horror at Loki’s words. To  _ unmake _ someone, remove them from the universe, was a  _ sin _ , not a word she used lightly. At least when someone was killed, truly killed, they could have their afterlife. Even if it didn’t take the shape they would have liked, it was  _ something _ . And half of the universe... 

“Well then.” She released Loki and looked him in the eye. 

“We’d better figure out a way to stop him.” 

X 

“So this is the Tesseract, more properly known as the Space Stone. It’s the one I was supposed to steal, way back when. I suppose it’s safe here, but it could get ugly if Thanos wants to fight for it.” 

Hela picked up the cube casually, bouncing it in her hand. “An awful lot of power for something this small. Kind of like-” she reached over and mussed Loki’s hair, which drew an affectionate swat in return. 

“So, what do we do with it? I keep stuff in my pocket dimension sometimes, but he’s broken in there before, and it wouldn’t stop him from coming here and attacking us.” 

“Well...” 

Loki glared at her. “That doesn’t sound good.” 

“It’s not. But maybe if we gave it to him, we could convince him to leave Asgard alone.” 

To the credit of Loki’s diplomacy skills, he didn’t immediately blow up at her as she would have expected. No, he came up with something  _ far _ worse. 

“You’re beginning to sound like Odin.” 

_ That _ stung more than she’d expected. 

“Well, can’t have that, so we’d better find something else. I wasn’t that set on it, anyway. Sacrificing half the universe to save us-” 

“Given we’re  _ not _ going to do that, what  _ will _ we do?” 

Hela considered the innocent-looking blue cube for a moment. It had mass, size, consistent shape. There had to be some part of it bound to its physical form, and therefore it could be destroyed. But how? 

“You’ve known this thing for a while- can we blow it up or something?” 

Loki shrugged. “I’ve thought of that. I’m not sure what that would do to space if its ruler were to just be obliterated. Then there’s the obvious question of  _ how _ ...” 

“Smashing it sounds like Thor’s job, and it would probably be able to put itself back together, you know, putting it back in its place, that’s what it does.” 

“If we had all of the Stones, maybe we could destroy them, but I have no idea where the last two are, and I have this horrible feeling that we’d end up gathering them all just in time for Thanos to show up and take them. There’s that saying about causing one’s destiny by trying to avoid it.” 

Hela shook her head. “We can’t risk that. So we need something else powerful enough to destroy it. Thing is, anything with that much power is going to be dangerous, to all of Asgard-” 

Mother and son had the same thought at the same exact time. As one, they turned to look at Surtur’s crown. 

“Oh, dear.” 


	8. Responsibility

Asgard was in chaos. 

Which made sense, considering the new Queen had ordered everyone to take their belongings, their families, their animals, and all else, and leave. For Alfheim, for Midgard, a few adventurous ones for Jotunheim, but mostly for Vanaheim. They’d asked for an explanation, but she offered none. 

It probably wouldn’t help the general state of affairs to announce that she and her cryptic son had decided to unleash Ragnarok. No, that was definitely  _ not _ happening. 

Hela and Loki did receive some credit for putting in legwork, assisting with such mundane tasks such as folding clothing or herding Bilgesnipe towards the Bifrost or the portals that linked the Realms. Farmers gathered seeds from every species of plant they could find, hoping to avoid any species going extinct if such a fate could be avoided. 

Mostly, all they earned were complaints. Children wailed at being roused from their sleep, mothers hardly knew what to say and often simply responded with “Well why don’t you ask  _ them _ ?”. “Them.” Not “your Queen and Crown Prince”, not even “Hela and Loki”. They’d become the villains just for trying to save the universe as bloodlessly as possible. 

But that was ruling in a nutshell, wasn’t it? Truly ruling, not just acting as a figurehead and giving nice speeches. This was taking on the repercussions, the blame, the active hatred from the people they were sacrificing everything to save. If the people don’t resent the government, the government is useless. 

It didn’t mean either of them had to like it. 

X 

Streams of already-weary travelers trudged down the Bifrost, which had scarcely stopped running since the evacuation order was given. Most dragged carts, or had recruited horses from somewhere to haul what they needed to take. 

The royal stables had emptied, with the horses being “loaned” to whoever needed them. Hela caught Loki bidding a fond farewell to an eight-legged grey specimen he called Sleipnir. The family that took possession of him bowed politely to Loki, but she could read the tension in his bearing like perhaps no one else could. 

After they left, Hela decided to ask what had just happened. Loki dashed away quickly, but she caught up in a courtyard where he’d collapsed on a bench, clearly about to cry. 

“What’s up, little one?” 

Loki sighed, but by now she knew he would tell her everything when he was ready. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long. 

“Thor was supposed to be crowned King. I knew he wasn’t ready - _ still _ isn’t- so I... Okay, I opened a portal and let a couple of Jotuns into the Vault to steal the Casket, but they weren’t even supposed to get that far. Part of me was actually surprised they even tried. Then Thor, true to form, decided to run off to Jotunheim to “talk”, but that couldn’t have ended without a fight. We were  _ right _ here, and I told one of the guards to let Odin know what was going on. We were supposed to get caught trying to sneak off, and Thor would get in trouble but no one would get hurt. But that stupid guard took too long to sound the alarm, and we got into a huge mess. I tried to kill myself, worse, I tried to kill  _ Thor _ , and then I ended up attacking Midgard and then Frigga died and Odin died and Thor killed me and none of that was supposed to happen-” 

He said all of this very fast, and Hela ultimately just pulled him into her arms, holding him close as he sobbed hysterically. “Hey, shh, just breathe. It’s okay. We’ll fix it. We-” 

“There’s so much that’ll never be right, and you know it. You and your ‘bring them back to life’ thing- you think you can just grab a bit of that Flame and fix everything. But you can’t. Now we’re about to blow up an entire planet just in the hope that we can stop a mad Titan from collecting all of them. It’s not okay.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I know. I like to pretend I’m powerful enough to fix everything. But...” She trailed off, and they sat in silence for a long time. Eventually, she found a new subject. 

“Was there a story with the eight-legged horse?” 

Loki actually chuckled, and she knew she’d chosen wisely. 

“Sleipnir, Odin’s favorite steed. Now helping evacuate people Odin never really bothered with, so we can destroy his favorite planet. How fitting.” 

“Asgard needed a new wall. We were all working together to build it, but then Thor ‘borrowed’ one of the horses we were using and went for a joyride. He came back alone, wanting to talk to me. I followed him to this hill, and the horse was still lying there with a broken leg. Anyone else would have just killed the horse, and he would have gotten in trouble, or  _ should _ have, and I didn’t want that.” 

“I hadn’t been learning healing magic for that long. I just tried to get the bones back to the way they were supposed to be, but then I guess I passed out. Anyway, when all was said and done, Sleipnir had twice as many legs as he should have. We left him there, snuck back, and pretended we had no idea what had happened. They found him eventually, gave him to Odin as a steed, and assumed he must have run into some weird pocket of Asgard where strange things happen. I suppose Heimdall knows what we did, but he never said, and that’s fine.” 

“So, all this time, you’ve been protecting Thor from himself. And no one ever noticed.” 

Loki shrugged. “It could be worse. The Midgardians have a story where I shapeshifted into a horse and gave birth to him.” 

Both of them burst out laughing. Loki choked out through it, “I mean, I can shift into animals, and I turned Thor into a frog once -no regrets there- but it’s not a  _ functional _ body...” 

Silence fell again, and Hela realized the time had come. 

“What do we do with Thor?” 

X 

Far across the universe, Thanos was displeased. He’d acquired the Power Stone to replace the Mind, and his Black Order was on its way to Knowhere to find the Reality. Two others were on Midgard, and that would be enough to get the final two. 

Unless, of course, one of them were destroyed by the traitor disaster of a reject so-called Prince of two different planets that hated him. 

It was a paradox. If he’d already had the Space Stone in his gauntlet, he could have just teleported himself there with a snap of his fingers. And yet, if he had the Space Stone, he wouldn’t  _ need _ to go to Asgard just now. Maybe once he got the Time Stone, he could pull the Tesseract back to Earth, where it had been for some centuries. Come to think of it, that would work even if the Asgardians  _ did _ manage to unmake one Stone. 

He chuckled as he climbed into his ship. He would set off for Asgard, anyway. He had a score to settle with the little traitor. 


	9. Legend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I can’t believe how quickly I wrapped this up. Maybe I’m under some sort of anti-writer’s-block spell. If you have any questions about the ending, let me know. Anyway, enjoy the last chapter, and stay safe! 

“Hela.” 

“It’s hell _ o _ .” 

Thor rolled his eyes and his body, flipping over to look at her properly, rather than her reflection in the gold walls. Then he noticed the figure next to her, and his blood ran cold. 

_ Loki. _

“Loki,” he stumbled to the wall, pressed his hand against it heedless of the pain that shot through it. “I’m sorry.” 

Loki responded in kind, putting his hand up, but said nothing. What was there to say? 

“Are you- how are you here?” 

Hela broke in. “I brought him back. His death is not yours to claim for yourself.” 

His  _ death _ . Not his  _ life _ . Well. From the proclaimed goddess of Death, such a statement perhaps made sense. What else could she do? Kill him as slowly and painfully as possible, from the look on her face. 

“Are you here to kill me?” 

“No.” 

_ Now _ Loki spoke, and Thor was more relieved by that fact than by the word. After a moment, Loki continued. 

“You may regret that. We’ve come up with something  _ far _ worse.” 

“Oh. Well, get on with it then.” 

Hela broke in. “Not  _ you _ , you witless oaf. We’re going to destroy Asgard.” 

Thor was rendered genuinely speechless for a moment, an unusual event. Then: 

“Are you  _ sure _ you wouldn’t rather just kill me?” 

X 

Loki had ordered the contents of his and Thor’s chambers evacuated to Vanaheim, although a part of him suspected he would never actually reach there alive. That was fine; there were worse ways to die than saving the universe. The two of them stood in the empty room where they’d once been innocent children, playing with each other and without a care in the world. How far they’d come, just to arrive in the same place. 

With Hela gone chasing stragglers out of the far corners of Asgard, the two of them could finally talk. Yet they simply stood on the balcony, watching the Asgard’s twin suns set for the last time. Red and orange painted the sky that itself would soon be destroyed. 

“Did you get Mother’s things?” 

It figured that the first thing Thor would finally manage to say was a logistical concern, rather than an existential one. While they were at it, it was even the one thing they could ever agree on- protect what was left of Mother’s legacy. 

Loki nodded. “I had them clear out everything of hers, and all the plants from her garden. They’ll go to Vanaheim, and I suppose whoever’s left from her family can have them if we don’t-” 

“ _ Someone _ has to be in the Vault to unleash Surtur. I know.” 

Silence asserted itself again, and then darkness joined it. Thor reached out slowly for his usual comforting grasp of Loki’s neck, allowing him time to duck away if he wanted. He didn’t, and the two touched for the first time since- 

Well, we won’t think about that now. There’s not a whole lot left of Asgard left, and it might as well be good. 

When the stars began to hold back the darkness above, Hela finally joined them, announcing that Asgard had completely emptied. That was in itself disorienting. An entire planet’s population had been reduced to the three of them, and Heimdall. Maybe the Gatekeeper should leave; there were the portals to escape before everything got blown to Hel. 

Either way, it was time. The time of Ragnarok. 

X 

The Vault had been emptied of most of the treasures, with the Casket being carried to Jotunheim as a diplomatic gift. It certainly couldn’t hurt for the small but brave contingent of refugees to have something to trade for sanctuary. 

Gungnir, and with it, the power of the throne, had been given to Heimdall for safekeeping, now evacuated to Vanaheim with the rest. If none of them made it out of Asgard alive, he would figure out who should rule what remained of Asgard’s nation. 

All was taken care of. The only thing left was to actually unleash Ragnarok. 

Which brought up the question of who would stay to revive Surtur, and who could get out ahead of it. 

Naturally, our trio of intrepid heroes each wanted to be the one. 

Thor volunteered insistently. “Let me do it. You two get out of here, and maybe I can finally earn forgiveness. I don’t  _ deserve _ to live through this.” 

Loki was having none of  _ that _ . “You’re already forgiven for  _ that _ and everything else you or I can think of. What I  _ won’t _ forgive you for is dying and leaving me without you. I’ve been trying to live like that for years, and that’s  _ not _ happening. Get out of here, both of you. I tried to blow up one planet already, so it might as well be me.” 

“Oh, no you don’t. I lost you three times, and it was always my fault. I’m not doing that again; I would rather die.” 

Hela broke in. “I’m the Queen, your sister, and Loki’s mother. This is  _ my _ job. The two of you need to get lost, and that’s an order.” 

“Wait- you’re-” 

“Yep, that’s a thing. Don’t ask. Just believe me.” 

“Well that’s easy. Looked in a mirror lately?” 

“Cute. Now get out of here.” 

“No.” This from Loki. “I’ve already killed my three other parents, directly or not. I tried to kill you-” he poked Thor in the chest “back on Midgard. Let me have this. It’s my fault, anyway.” 

At that precise moment, Loki’s vision shifted, and he realized Heimdall had passed him the Sight. After a violent shock of seeing  _ everything _ all at once, Loki realized why. 

Thanos was coming, in a huge, all-too-familiar spaceship. He must have noticed the disturbance, the evacuation, and drawn the only conclusion he could. 

“Whatever. Thanos is coming. He’ll get to the Tesseract if we don’t get rid of it. We need to do this,  _ now _ . Even if  _ nobody  _ wants to leave first.” 

Hela scoffed. “Well, there’s no point in all  _ three  _ of us dying.” 

Powerful things come in threes, it was well established. Three dimensions, past present future, three Norns, square it for the Nine Realms. 

Three of them. 

How could Loki have not realized sooner the gaping hole in his life? He’d followed Thor around without question, never noticing something was missing? Some _ one _ , rather. Had he been looking for her, wandering off on family outings, or utterly failing to bond with any of Thor’s friends because of the two people he needed most, he already had one and the other was trapped far beyond his reach? 

If this was the end, it was fine. Three people who seemed to have nothing in common, working together to save the universe. Death, thunder, and mischief. Where had those powers come from? There was no logic to it- 

_ But that’s always you, keeping the rest of Asgard on their toes  _

Death, thunder, and mischief. Three forces of the universe that could strike at any time. As with a tree that grows in a storm, it is all the stronger for having reacted to every gust that tried to take it down. 

“I would prefer to survive this, all of us. And I’m certainly not giving up hope for getting out of here, somehow. But if this is the end, there’s no one in the universe I would rather face it with.” 

That was a good moment. Hela’s face when she realized they’d finally achieved the bond they always should have had, Thor finally being able to forgive himself... 

Not a bad way to die, at all. 

Hela pulled an axe out of somewhere, lifted it overhead and smashed it into the floor, startling both of her brothers. A few blows later, and she snatched a handful of the Eternal Flame before jumping through the hole. Thor and Loki stared at each other in confusion. Loki spoke first. 

“...do you think there’s maybe something in our blood, about falling ridiculously far?...” 

A fearsome howl drowned out whatever response Thor may have given as Hela did... whatever it was she did. Her powers were a mystery to him. 

Seconds later, a giant wolf leapt out of the floor, Hela clinging to her back. They jumped back, Thor letting out a violent curse, Loki laughing. 

“This, is Fenris. She’ll get us out of here. Now climb on.” 

Thor climbed up hesitantly, clinging to fur and ultimately grabbing Hela around her waist in sheer terror. 

“Hey, you’ve still got my hammer!” 

“It was mine  _ long _ before it was yours. Just deal with it.” 

Loki snatched Surtur’s crown and dumped it in the Eternal Flame. “With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn.” 

At once, the crown glowed, began to smoke, and shook violently. Ragnarok had begun. No going back now. Time to leave. 

Loki snatched a hand from each of his siblings and landed in between them. All three laughed and Fenris howled for joy as they fought to outrun the flames. 

X 

Thanos burst out of a portal to a scourged and blazing world. It looked so much like Titan on that final day, when he’d become the endling of his species. He’d wanted to die, then. Eventually, he’d found some sort of purpose, but it wasn’t enough. 

If he were lucky, balancing the universe would wipe himself out. He had no wish for an afterlife. Nothing, would be a gift. 

Now, if he could just find the cube... 

The ground shook as he landed. Moments later, a giant fire demon landed in front of him. 

“Tremble before me, Titan. Today is your reckoning!” His voice was booming, obviously intending to terrify everyone into submission. 

Not so with Thanos. He lifted the Gauntlet and fired the Power Stone into the demon, assuming it would kill him. On the contrary, the purple wave burst out of him and into Asgard itself, cracking the entire planet. 

He didn’t care. The planet could burn all the demon liked. All he needed was the Tesseract, and he knew where that was: inside the golden palace. If he could just get past the demon, who had already returned to smashing the planet... 

Thanos had just entered the palace when a huge wolf came charging out, the traitor and two faces from his memories clinging to the wolf’s back. All four startled when they saw him, then glared at him in unison. Even armed with the Power Stone, he did not think he could face all of them at once. 

Not that it would stop him from trying. 

He raised the gauntlet, and was immediately knocked back with a forceful snarl from the wolf. What  _ was _ that thing, anyway? Some sort of Helspawn. The woman on its back, snarling likewise, launched a spear at him. He dodged by instinct, ducking behind a nearby wall, which then smashed into pieces in a burst of green and gold and lightning. 

_ Laughter _ from the reject traitor, sounding so strange. “Dear brother, you are so  _ worthy _ .” 

“Shut up and fight.” 

Thanos could have kept fighting, but they weren’t the biggest hazard, and he needed the Stone. He dodged away from them and into the palace, just in time for the entire planet to shudder violently as if in its death throes, which he supposed it was. Or maybe it was an egg, pipping and cracking and hatching to unleash some beast to outmatch the wolf and the demon. 

The trio of warriors - _ when did the outcast find friends _ \- did  _ something _ , he could tell, but he didn’t stick around to figure out what. Finally, the Tesseract pulling him as if on a string, he made his way to the collapsing underneath of the palace. At least once he had that cube, he could get out within a second. 

Something was moving under his feet, or so the Power Stone told him. Well. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be around for much longer. There was the cube, just sitting there on a pedestal like no one’s business. 

As soon as he reached it, a swarm of skeletons burst out of a hole in the floor and came at him. He tried blasting them aside, just to get to the Stone, just that one thing and he could leave this nightmare, but the purple wave went through them like they didn’t exist, or like  _ it _ didn’t. 

_ Oh.  _ **_Skeletons_ ** _. _

The Power stone reacted with  _ living _ things. 

As the skeletons mobbed him, hacking away with everything they had, he regretted every moment of his life that had led him to that fate. 

X 

Behind him Loki was aware of the exact moment Thanos died. It was as if an enormous weight lifted off his shoulders. Part of him wondered if they’d truly needed what the Midgardians called the “nuclear approach”, but it was too late now. Anyway, at least the Space Stone would no longer be a threat to the universe. 

He’d always been afraid of dying alone, and now he never would. The three of them and their trusty steed would spend the rest of their lives together, although how long that meant was steadily collapsing around them. Breaking open the portal with a burst of Seidr, he pulled them forward and out of Asgard just as it began to burn behind them. 

X 

Surtur finished his work, and Asgard burst into a cloud of dust. It would form itself back together quickly, cocooning the core in an impenetrable casing. 

The Space Stone itself had survived the blast that destroyed the planet and rid it of its protective casing. Bare to the universe, it would be nearly impossible to use without transporting the wielder to some far corner of space where they would never survive. It could host the power of space and keep all that in line without being used as a weapon. 

All of that was as it should be. 

X 

The remnants of Asgard still tell the story, the legend of the three stars. A pair of them, close together, with one smaller, shadowed one clutching close around them. They can be seen from everywhere in the Nine Realms. Next time it’s a clear night, go outside. Perhaps you can see them watching over you. 

The legend tells of a sister who found her way from her prison to the brothers who needed her, who joined with them to save the universe from the worst threat it would ever face. It’s a story of devastation, of hope, of triumph. No one can say how true it may be. 

X 

shone over the land, warming everyone awake. 

Loki snatched a book from the library and devoured it while his two siblings spent the morning sparring. The library was full of every book one could imagine. He would never get through them all. 

The fight ended in a draw, as usual, and Hela suggested a hunt. That sounded like an  _ excellent _ idea, and the trio set off on foot, Fenris trailing behind. She’d shrunk down to a more normal size, on par with a few other wolves in the area. One of those tagged along too, the pair of them occasionally pouncing at each other as they went. 

The giant boar appeared out from the trees, charging off into the distance. The wolves had disappeared to -wherever it was they went- so Hela tossed swords to her brothers and off they went in pursuit, grinning all the way. This was perfection, not a care in the world, just the thrill of the chase. 

They caught up to the boar at the bottom of a waterfall, and killed it quickly. Fenris and her boyfriend, fur ruffled, showed up right when they’d tied it up, and happily carried it back to the hall. Gratitude and congratulations followed from the various people, and quickly they set about butchering the boar for all to enjoy that evening. 

Odin and Frigga showed up, drawn in by the commotion. Hugs all around, even if a few were awkward, stilted by half-forgotten memories of troubles long gone. 

Dinner, when it came, was sumptuous; roast boar, golden apples, ambrosial wine. They ate until they could hold no more and fell asleep right where they sat, out in the open air on fresh, green grass. 

The warm light of dawn shone over the 


End file.
